


not perfect but it's real

by ohmcgee



Series: ohmcgee's mallverse [50]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Fucking Up, M/M, Mental Illness, mallverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: "There’s a part of Harvey that has no idea what’s going on and then there’s the part of him that knows exactly what’s happening and wants it. "





	

Living with Bruce again is nothing like the first time they lived together, sleeping till three in the afternoon and having Jim Beam for breakfast, bringing back hookers and blow to their hotel rooms after shows and partying until the cops threatened to throw them in jail. Now, Bruce gets up as the sun rises, hides the dark and gritty edges of himself under three piece suits and silk ties and kisses Jason on his way out the door, coffee and homemade muffin in hand. It’s like watching goddamn _Leave It To Beaver_ every morning, Harvey thinks, if June Cleaver’d had spiky blue hair, a bunch of ink, and a dick. 

Most days Bruce goes in at seven and gets home around six, later if they’re closing some big deal that week. He’s generally pretty good about leaving work at the office and doesn’t bore them with the details over dinner or anything, but Harvey’s known Bruce long enough to know when he’s just being his usual stoic self and when he’s had a shit day. 

That evening when Bruce gets home he heads straight to the garage and picks up his sticks. He doesn’t even bother changing clothes, just drapes his jacket over a couple of boxes, pushes up his sleeves, and they play until his shirt is soaked through with the sweat on the front and the back and his hair is curling up behind his ears the way he does when he gets too hot. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Harvey asks, lifting the guitar strap over his head and leaning it against one of the amps. 

“About what?” Bruce responds and Harvey just shakes his head. 

“Remember that time you tried to lie to me about being sick so I wouldn’t cancel the show in Austin?” Harvey says and before Bruce can reply, he continues. “Well, you were shit at it then and you’re shit at it now.”

Bruce rolls his eyes at him, but leans back against the wall and sighs. “I lost a client we’ve had for over forty years because of an idiotic remark I made.”

Harvey snorts. Now that sounds like the Bruce he knows. “What happened?” 

“He made an inquiry about my family values,” Bruce sighs, running his fingers through his thick, sweaty hair. “So, I in turn asked him where _his_ were at the last New Year’s Eve party when he was doing blow off his secretary tits.”

Harvey laughs so hard he thinks he pulls something. “Christ,” he says, holding his side. “Let’s get you a beer, man. You fucking need one.”

 

: : :

 

Turns out Bruce had maybe needed that beer more than he realized. He manages to go through all the ones in the mini-fridge in the garage, then heads inside and brings out a bottle of wine and two glasses, forgetting Harvey’s not really joining in, but Harvey doesn’t say anything, just takes the glass when Bruce hands it to him.

They sit out back by the pool after the sun goes down and Harvey’s reminded of how chatty Bruce gets when he’s drunk. He rants about work and Talia, talks about Jason and Damian and the little freaks that come in and out of the house, waving the glass around as he talks, and Harvey just grins and laughs along with it. He feels guilty and selfish for thinking it, but he’s kind of glad Jason had to work late tonight and that he gets Bruce alone to himself for the first time since he’s been here. He appreciates that no matter how long they’ve been apart that they can just fall back into their normal rhythm, almost like nothing has changed. 

Bruce still turns pink around his ears when he gets tipsy and his smile gets a little lopsided and Harvey wishes he could blame it on booze when he starts staring at Bruce’s mouth, but the glass in his hand hasn’t even reached his mouth. 

“Enough about me,” Bruce finally says, licking a stray drop of wine from his bottom lip. “How are you? Have you been getting enough sleep?”

Jesus, Harvey hates that question. Sometimes he feels like that’s all anybody asks him. Has he slept, has he eaten anything. He’s surprised they don’t ask him about his goddamn bowel movements. 

“Sure,” Harvey says, a little edge to his tone he couldn’t quite hold back. “Might get more if you two could keep it down.”

He hadn’t meant to say that, actually. It was just one of those times his irritation got the best of him and broke straight through his filter and before he knew it here they were, talking about Bruce’s sex life. 

Bruce, the bastard, just chuckles over the rim over his glass. Sober, he might’ve turned a little pink, cleared his throat and changed the subject, but with this much alcohol in his system his filter’s worse than Harvey’s on a bad day. “I’m not sure that’s possible actually. Jay doesn’t really see the point if he can’t be --”

“Jesus,” Harvey mutters and decides fuck it, one glass of wine isn’t going to kill him. Besides, if they’re doing this he’s going to need it. 

“ -- vocal about it.”

Harvey just shakes his head. “Well, he’s definitely that.”

He thought he’d been doing pretty well so far at ignoring the big gay elephant in the room, pretending every morning that he hadn’t been up all night listening to Jason moaning Bruce’s name. The first couple of times he’d even tried _not_ to, even grabbed his earbuds and turned up his music so he wouldn’t hear them. That worked great until the puppy chewed them up and Harvey was stuck in his room down the hall from them one night, tossing and turning as he listened to Jason begging Bruce to fuck him. That was the first night Harvey gave in and put his hand on his dick. He closed his eyes and fucked his fist as Jay moaned for it _harder, Bruce_ , and tried to picture them. Was Jason on his back, legs pushed up past his head as Bruce pounded into him or did Bruce have him bent over the edge of the bed, grabbing the kid’s hips as he fucked into him. It was when Harvey thought about him on top, riding Bruce’s cock, that sent Harvey over the edge.

“If you think that’s bad,” Bruce says, pulling Harvey out of his guilt-ridden flashback. “You should hear how loud he gets when I eat him out.” 

Harvey just looks over at Bruce for a long, tense moment. Bruce is just sitting there, watching him, like he’s waiting for something. No, like he _wants_ something.

Harvey tilts the glass back and drains the rest of it in one gulp. 

“I’m beat,” He says, forcing himself to get up. He can’t stop thinking about Bruce’s tongue buried inside Jason’s ass. He can’t stop remembering how Bruce used to whine for him, how he’d _beg_ Harvey to just fuck him. “I’m gonna hit the sack.”

“Wait,” Bruce says, grabbing Harvey’s arm right before he walks past him and just holds him there. Bruce is still sitting and the image he makes when he looks up at Harvey, his mouth stained red and those ridiculous eyes looking up at him, it’s very nearly enough to make Harvey come undone. 

“Goodnight, Bruce,” Harvey murmurs, wrenching his arm away and heading back inside. 

 

: : :

 

Jason’s off the next day and Harvey’s still up reading when he hears Bruce get up and get in the shower before work, but he stays in his room instead of going down for breakfast. He hears them talking in the hall, hears the dishes clanking downstairs as Jason makes breakfast, and not long after Bruce pulls out of the driveway Harvey finally passes out. 

He wakes up three hours later and heads downstairs, grabs a muffin Jay left out for him and puts on a fresh pot of coffee. He’s not sure where Jason is, but he assumes it’s wherever the sound of the vacuum is coming from. Harvey takes his meds when he remembers, then takes his coffee and muffin into the living room and curls up on the couch. 

It’s not one of his worse days, but he can already tell it’s not going to be a good one. All he wants to do is shut all the goddamn curtains and turn the lights off and pretend nothing else exists. He turns on the tv instead and flips through the channels, but just gets irritated when he doesn’t find anything good to watch. 

When Jason finally comes downstairs he finds Harvey sideways on the couch staring at the wall, muffin still sitting on the coffee table next to his coffee that’s probably cold by now too. 

“Hey,” he says. “Shit, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Nah,” Harvey says, pulling his feet up a little when Jay sits down on the couch next to him. 

“Good,” Jay says, pulling Harvey’s feet into his lap, then grabbing a throw blanket from the back of the couch and putting it over him. Harvey wasn’t really cold, but it still feels kinda nice. “Whatcha watching?”

“Nothing,” Harvey mutters. “Nothing on.”

“Wrong,” Jay says, grinning as he reaches over Harvey and grabs the remote for the DVR. “There’s always Buffy.”

 

: : :

 

Three hours later, Harvey’s actually made it into an upright position and he’s somehow got a sandwich in his hand. 

“But,” Harvey says, taking a bite. It’s pastrami -- his favorite. “She didn’t die though.”

“She died enough,” Jay shrugs and Harvey snorts. 

“Well whatever,” he says. “New girl’s hot.”

“Damn straight,” Jay says. “Kind of a mess though.”

“All the hot ones are,” Harvey says, winking, and Jay just laughs and tells him to eat his damn sandwich. 

After a few more episodes Harvey is actually really getting into it. Something's going down with the crazy slayer and the broody vampire guy and Harvey’s getting huffy because Jason keeps getting up and down and walking in front the tv doing his little housewife bit. Plus, when he's in the other room he can't answer all Harvey’s questions. So, the next time Jay comes in the room to grab Harvey’s empty plate and refill his drink, Harvey says, “Would you just sit _down_?” and grabs him by the wrist, yanking him down in his lap. 

It’s definitely one of those times where he forgot to think before he acted and he expects Jason to laugh it off, to punch him in the shoulder or push him off the couch and tell him to go fuck himself, but --

He doesn’t. 

Jason doesn’t go anywhere, he just sort of gives Harvey this look and says, “Hey,” his mouth quirking to the side a little. 

Harvey licks his lips, a nervous habit, and lets go of Jason’s arm, but then he has no idea where to put his hand. “Hey,” he says back, a little shaky, and his eyelids flutter when Jason reaches out and tucks one of Harvey’s random curls behind his ear. 

It’s one of those moments where everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion and Harvey feels like he’s set in concrete, unable to move. He’s just sort of _there_ as he watches Jason’s tongue dart out to wet his lips and his hands just move of their own accord, settling on Jason’s hips as Jason shifts around to straddle him. 

There’s a part of Harvey that has no idea what’s going on and then there’s the part of him that knows exactly what’s happening and _wants_ it. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it and when Jason leans in and Harvey gets a taste of him he knows there’s no turning back. 

Harvey licks into Jason’s mouth and tastes coffee and cigarettes, and when he breathes in he can smell Bruce all _over_ him. Not just his cologne -- Jason smells like everything Harvey remembers about Bruce -- sweat, sex, the kind of shampoo he uses, his aftershave -- _all of it_ , and it does something to Harvey. 

Something damn bad.

Something that makes him forget this is Bruce’s boy in his lap as he cups the back of Jason’s neck and pushes his tongue in his mouth, something that allows him to ignore all of the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this as he slides his hand up the back of Jason’s shirt. But it’s more than that, too. It’s been too long since anyone’s touched him like this, since he’s felt hands as soft as Jason’s touching his face, the solid weight of someone who wants him pressed against him, and he’s starved for it. It’s just too much for him to handle and he’s weak. 

He’s weak and Jason’s arching his back when Harvey moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, giving him his throat and the sharp jut of his collarbone to bite and mouth at, and when Harvey covers all the skin he can get to Jason tugs his shirt off and lets it drop to the floor and Harvey loses his last thread of control. 

He gets his hands around Jason’s ribs and throws him down on the couch, sucks a bruise the size of a golf ball on the side of his neck so hard Jason whines beneath him, then wraps his legs around Harvey’s waist and drags him down until they’re pressed together. 

Jason just lets out this needy sound that Harvey only usually hears from across the hall, his short, black nails digging into Harvey’s shoulder blades, and Harvey just grunts out a noise into the crook of Jason’s shoulder when he grinds down against him. 

There’s still that part, albeit a small, quiet part way back in the back of his mind telling him they shouldn't’ be doing this, but Harvey _needs_ this. He needs it so fucking bad. He can taste the salt from Jason’s skin on his tongue, can feel his hard, sweet little body underneath him and something in Harvey just snaps. He knows what Jason sounds like when he’s getting fucked now. He knows how loud he can scream. 

“Will you scream for me,” he murmurs next to Jason’s ear as they fuck each other through their clothes like horny teenagers who could get caught at any moment. He can feel the humidity of his breath against Jason’s skin, can breathe in the aftershave that rubbed off on Jason when Bruce kissed him that morning before he left for work. “Like you do for Bruce?”

“God,” Jason moans and arches up against him, body begging for more. 

“Or will you be louder,” Harvey breathes out heavily against the side of Jason’s neck. “When you come for me?”

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Jason gasps, thighs tightening around Harvey, biting down on his own lip when he comes, his whole body shaking with it, and Harvey sits back to look at him. Jason’s face is red, hair plastered to the side of his face with sweat, and when he reaches out to undo his belt everything just sort of comes crashing back into focus.

“Don’t,” Harvey says, shoving Jason’s hand away, and he realizes his own hands are shaking. 

“Harvey --” Jason tries, but Harvey can’t even look at him. He can’t believe -- 

He doesn’t even know how this happened.

“No,” Harvey says. “I didn’t -- we shouldn’t have --.”

“No. Harvey. Hey --” Jason tries, reaching out for him, but Harvey stands up and wrenches his arm out of Jason’s grasp.

“I said _no_ ,” he shouts and the brief flash of fear in Jason’s eyes is enough to confirm what he knows he has to do. 

He has to leave. 

 

: : :

 

Jason’s hands are shaking as he tries to light a cigarette out back, his phone on speaker as he waits for Bruce to answer. 

“Hey,” Bruce says a few minutes later. “Sorry, I was on the other line. What’s up?”

“I think,” Jason says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Bruce, I think I fucked up big time.”

“I doubt that’s true,” Bruce says. His voice is too kind, too patient. Jason knows he doesn’t deserve any of that right now and it’s just frustrating him. “What happened?”

“Harvey,” Jay stammers, taking a quick, shaky drag off his cigarette. “I -- you know what we talked about? Well, I. It just kind of happened.”

“Oh,” Bruce says. “Well...that is why we talked about it, Jay. I hope you don’t think I’m upset, that’s why --”

“No,” Jay says, shaking his head and pacing back and forth in front of the pool. God, he’s still being so fucking _nice._ “You don’t -- I didn’t fucking tell _him,_ Bruce.”

“Hold on,” Bruce says slowly. “What exactly --”

“I just need you to get here,” Jason says, his voice shaking as hard as his hands now. “He’s leaving, Bruce.”

There’s a beat, a silence where Jason is just waiting for _something_ , but all Bruce says is, “I’m on my way,” before he hangs up. 

 

: : :

 

Harvey’s still packing by the time Bruce gets there, thankfully. Bruce sees Jay sitting on the couch when he walks in the door but he doesn’t say anything to him, just looks at him and heads upstairs to find Harvey. 

For a moment he just stands there, leaning in the open door watching as Harvey shoves his clothes into the duffle bag he brought them over in. Then, when it’s clearHarvey isn’t going to acknowledge him, Bruce steps inside and shuts the door. 

“We should talk.”

Harvey lets out this hysterical laugh and doesn’t look up at him. “I told you,” he says. “I _warned_ you. I said this would be a bad idea, didn’t I?”

He looks up at Bruce and his eyes are bloodshot, his hair a mess like he’s been trying to pull it out, and he backs away when Bruce takes a step forward. 

“This is what I _do_ ,” Harvey snaps, eyes wide and wild as he turns to Bruce, gesturing to himself violently. “This is what I fucking _do_ , Bruce. And you _know_ it, that’s the worst fucking part!”

“Harvey, please --”

“I ruin -- I ruin everything I _touch_ ,” Harvey says, snatching a shirt off the bed and shoving in his bag. “So just --”

Bruce grabs Harvey’s face in both of his hands and forces him to look at him. He has the worst bags under his eyes and it’s apparent he’s not been sleeping enough and Bruce just feels so god damned guilty. Harvey staying with them was supposed to _help_ him. They were supposed to help him and instead --

“This is not your fault,” he says clearly, firmly. Harvey rolls his eyes and tries to turn his head, tries to get away from him, but Bruce doesn’t let him. 

“Sure,” Harvey snaps. “Right. I just almost fucked your --”

“I wanted it,” Bruce says to him, looking into his eyes to make sure Harvey really understands what he’s trying to say. “We wanted it, Harvey. We discussed it.”

Harvey opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Then he huffs and his eyebrows knit together and when Bruce lets him go he just sits down on the edge of the bed and scrubs his face with his hands. 

Bruce takes the duffel bag off the bed and sits down next to him. “Jay and I,” he says. “We talked about it the other night. You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing happened that Jay and I didn’t already want to happen.”

Harvey looks up at him and rakes his fingers through his hair roughly, eyebrows still drawn together. “Why?”

“Because,” Bruce says, reaching out and taking Harvey’s hand, rubbing his thumb across the scar on the back. “I’ll always love you. You know that. And Jay cares for you too. It’s been amazing having you here with us.”

Harvey lets out a shaky breath and hangs his head. 

“I don’t know,” he says and Bruce squeezes his hand. 

“We want this,” Bruce tells him. “I need you to know that. But if this is too much for you, I understand. And I apologize.”

“No,” Harvey says, shaking his head. “I mean. It’s just. _Fuck_. I just can’t trust what’s in my head sometimes, you know?”

“I know,” Bruce says, bringing Harvey’s hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “We’ll help with that. Jason had good intentions, but he should have told you first. It was extremely irresponsible for him to throw this at you with no warning. That’s on him, not you, okay?”

“No, christ.” Harvey mutters. “Don’t blame him. I shouldn’t have--”

“Shh,” Bruce says, laying his fingers across Harvey’s mouth. “We’re supposed to be taking care of you, not making things worse.”

Then he moves his hand to cup Harvey’s cheek, brushing his thumb over the curve of Harvey’s cheekbone. “How would you feel about me kissing you right now?”

“I think you’re an idiot,” Harvey murmurs, then palms the back of Bruce’s neck and pulls him in. 

They kiss like they’ve never forgotten the shape of each other’s mouths. There’s no heat in it, but there is a certain desperation around the edges, a need that neither of them can deny and when they break apart Bruce leans his forehead against Harvey’s and smiles. And Harvey smiles back. 

 

: : :

 

Jay waits downstairs until he can’t take it anymore. He wants to give them time to talk everything through, but he needs to know how bad he fucked up. He needs to know if he just ruined _everything._

When he steps inside Harvey’s room he stops as soon as he sees them. Harvey’s sitting on the edge of the bed and Bruce is standing in front of him. Harvey has his arms around Bruce’s waist and his face pressed against Bruce’s stomach and Jason doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful before. Bruce is just softly stroking Harvey’s hair and when he looks back and sees Jay standing there Jay walks over and sits down on the bed next to Harvey, slips his hand into Harvey’s and lays his head on his shoulder. 

It’s not perfect and it’s not going to be easy, but nothing worth having is. And this, Jay thinks, as Bruce looks down at him with forgiveness in his eyes, is maybe the most worthwhile thing he’s ever done.


End file.
